


come into my arms (destroy me if you want)

by itsgameover



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Boys in Skirts, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Phone Sex, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Skirt Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsgameover/pseuds/itsgameover
Summary: Minseok looks into the mirror and takes one, two, maybe three pictures, in one of them his underwear is showing, just a little bit. He opens the abandoned conversation, searches for the photos and hesitates for a second before hitting send. The double blue ticks tell him they have been seen. Good.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	come into my arms (destroy me if you want)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bottomxiu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomxiu/gifts).



> for my beloved max, thank you for the hype and the love. I MISS U.   
> I feel like this is my kinky magnum opus... along with the priest kink one, you know me!  
> Regardless, hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (OH BOY DID I LOVE WRITING IT!)  
> (title from Mmmh by KAI, soty <3)

In the making of Seoul’s Fashion Week, no one in the industry is left untouched. The models and their high heels and their expertly crafted personas, the designers and their endless nights of work to deliver the collection that is most pleasing and satisfying to them and to their brand, the modistes who continue to fix the smallest of details making sure that the outfits fit the canvases in the most beautiful way, and of course, the small army of makeup artists that run from model to model, ensuring their pretty little faces display exactly what was envisioned by their pretty little evil masters, the designers with their rage and their demands. 

Minseok has been working in this environment since he was seventeen but has been involved in the culture since he was a child, when he was following the footsteps of his mother and her sister, a duo of models who were beloved by the fashion world. It made sense that he followed her around, his father always busy and his mother unwilling to leave her precious child with a nanny. And Minseok could have been a model, he has been told his face and his body are wonderful for the job, but always preferred to watch from the sidelines. Besides, being a model would have been more a cause for his dear, darling husband to throw jealousy fits. He already acts all possessive and cute whenever Minseok sends him photos with the gorgeous models, male or female, he can’t imagine what would be like if he were the one openly ogled in a runway. 

“Minseokkie-hyung…” Jongin calls from the right corner of the little tent they have to prepare the male models in the Gucci show “Can you give me a little bit of chocolate?”

“Are you allowed to eat it?” Minseok asks but he is already reaching inside his bag for the white chocolate Jongin adores. He has been working with the boy since he became a model, 18 years and bare faced yet still looking like a young adonis, 182cm tall with a bright smile and a sweet attitude. 

“Let’s say yes,” the boy answers before prying the piece of chocolate with manicured hands, fingers drowning in layers and layers of lace cuffs. 

Minseok’s phone rings and when he checks it, is just Jongdae asking how he is doing. Jongin peeks at the phone and teases his hyung endlessly. 

“Come on, hyung, finish my makeup so we can send a selfie to your husband!”

“He’s going to be mad about it,” Minseok answers, dusting Jongin’s beautiful cheekbones in golden, “you are going to give me trouble.”

“Bet you like that trouble, hyung,” Jongin teases, smiling mischievously. 

Minseok picks his phone and snaps a photo, Jongin’s hand resting on his shoulder, a little bit too close to his neck. He captions it ‘hanging out all on my own with a pretty boy @94_kji’ before uploading it to instagram. It gets a lot of likes pretty quickly, since a lot of people like Jongin. A few seconds later, a message from Jongdae appears. Minseok grins. 

“Perhaps I do like it…”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Minseok screams when his head hits the mattress, soft plush duvet doing nothing to dampen the sharp pang of pain that comes from the hand pulling his hair back. 

“I leave you alone for a weekend” Jongdae says, pulling down Minseok’s pants and underwear all at once, “and all you can think of is pretty boys.” Minseok yelps when two fingers prod inside him, it doesn’t hurt because he is already prepped, all too eager to please his lovely, possessive Jongdae. He laughs, scissoring inside Minseok to make him weep and keen. “And you are this wet already…” Jongdae says, slapping his ass with a heavy hand, “such a whore.” 

“But I’m your little whore, aren’t I?” Minseok says, looking over his shoulder right as Jongdae slides in, pushing his walls with his deliciously thick cock. 

“Of course you are,” Jongdae assures, slapping him once more as he bottoms out “I fucking bought you a 100 carat diamond to prove it didn’t I?” he leans over, pressing his chest to Minseok’s back, tongue sliding up his skin until he reaches his nape and bites. He grabs Minseok’s hand, intertwining their fingers harshly. “Did you finger yourself using it? Did you think of me when you fucked yourself?”

Minseok moans high and loud when Jongdae finally hits there, fucking him hard and fast without any sort of warning, just like he needs it, loves it. “I always do,” he answers, breathless.

“Good,” Jongdae answers, unfaltering pace brutalizing Minseok’s body “no one can fuck you like me, no one.” 

“No one,” Minseok agrees, voice coarse and broken, his husband’s hand wrapping around his dick to completely drive him insane until he comes, spilling over the duvet with a broken moan. 

Jongdae finishes shortly after, pulling out only to spin Minseok around and come on his belly, licking his abs before going for a filthy tongue ridden kiss. 

“I missed you so much,” he says afterwards, sticky and needy, kissing Minseok more softly, more mellow. It grows fonder, kinder, pulling him snug against his chest, laying their heads on the very comfortable pillows of their King sized bed. 

“I missed you too,” Minseok whispers, smiling contentedly. “I’m so happy you are finally back.”

Jongdae stays silent, Minseok’s right eyebrow shoots for the stars. 

“Don’t tell me you have to leave again,” Jongdae opens his mouth and Minseok already feels the bad news coming, interrupting before he can even speak. “Kim Jongdae, we were going to visit my parents next week! You agreed to it! I paid for cakes!”

“I know, I know, but… Yixing is having trouble in Changsha.” Jongdae threads his hand in Minseok’s black hair, caressing it softly like he knows it will calm him down. “We should be over with the fusion by now but there are some tricky things to get over with the whole korean ban...” Minseok pouts, hard, like he knows it will make Jongdae groan and lean to kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back before you even know it, I promise”

Minseok sighs, once again losing the battle against the corporate, “So a week then?”

“Yeah, but I’ll try to come back earlier.”

“Well, if you meet a chinese prostitute use protection, I don’t want surrogate children.”

Jongdae’s deep laugh rumbles from his chest straight into Minseok’s in-love heart. “Dumb little Seokkie, thinking that I’ll want anyone other than you” he kisses him silly then, make out that will clearly lead nowhere but still makes Minseok melt. “I’d fuck you again but I’m too tired to even think.”

“I like cuddles too,” he says and his ever so happy to deliver husband rearranges them on the bed, turning off the light with his phone like the sophisticated fool he pretends he is. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Jongdae leaves for China the following monday, with a sour expression as he has to let go of Minseok’s warm hand, walking towards the boarding entrance throwing looks over his shoulder that give Minseok the impression that he is a sad puppy. It’s heart wrenching but it’s also endearing. 

When he gets back into his car, Minseok accidentally pulls down his silk scarf and with the little purple blemishes in plain sight, he feels thoroughly loved. He drives home listening to the playlist Jongdae made for him, laughing out loud when he hears Closer by Nine Inch Nails as if he needed a reminder that Jongdae was not done with him and that he was a bit more animalistic than the usual man. 

On the road home, he receives plenty of texts and when he refuses to acknowledge, too into the rhythm of Church by Chase Atlantic, the sound of an incoming call disrupts his flow. 

“You better be in an emergency” he retorts, turning off the music. 

Jennie groans on the other side of the line, “I am! The shoot was rescheduled because the photographer is a bitch and says the light won’t be perfect for another month or whatever artistic shit he thinks.” 

“To which day?” Minseok already sees where this whole conversation is going. 

“Today, in three hours,” the exhaustion in Jennie’s voice is enough to drive any compassionate man to do something for her. 

Minseok hates being so kind. 

Minseok sighs, stares at the driveway of his home and sighs again, thinking that he has to make it all the way up to pick his work box and come back down only to drive through the very transited streets of Seoul. “I was going to have a very relaxing day finishing the third season of Black Mirror but I guess I won’t.”

“You are an angel, Minseokkie!” The relief in the woman’s voice, much like her suffering, is palpable. Minseok feels kind of good about it. 

The ride to Hongdae is slow but entertaining, accompanied by the lovely music Jongdae provided him, in the stereo The Weeknd’s Often playing in a low volume, car windows rolled down and the need to call Jongdae and tell him he misses him fresh inside his heart. 

The photoshoot is uneventful, four lovely models with long legs and lithe chests, plush lips and puffy cheeks, shot in the top of a building which is most likely the reason why Jennie’s photographer, one eccentric man by the funky name of KEY, wanted to have it today. Artist are all insane, some in a good way and some others, like this, in a very dumb way. 

Minseok paints cheeks and lips, eyes and noses and temples, drawing some elegant flourishes with bold colors and white lines, all under Jennie’s careful eyes. She is a savage when it comes to the photoshoots done for her high end brand. And despite her heavy surveillance, she trusts him and only him for this kind of thing. Minseok remembers her in his wedding, drunk off her head, telling Jongdae that he should never take Minseok away from makeup. 

“He is the only good one in this country, Daedoo!” she slurred. 

Jongdae told her, even if she would never remember it, that whatever makes his husband happy should never be taken from him. Minseok said he made him happy, Jongdae told him he won’t ever leave him then. 

And now that Minseok thinks about it, cleaning his brushes as the session ends and pulling out the make up remover and the baby wipes, Jongdae is in China, leaving him alone with makeup, the irony. 

“Ok, lovely seeing you as usual, Jennie Kim,” he says, picking up his makeup box and his bag with a few clothes that the lovely designer brought for him as a sweet gift, “but I have to go home and put on a face mask as I stare into oblivion. See you another time.” He then turns around, blowing a kiss to Jennie as she waves goodbye with a big smile. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

What happens is that Minseok arrives home at 11pm, tired and in dire need of a good bubble bath and thinking what can he watch on the tv as he falls asleep, and leaves his stuff carelessly on the dining room table. 

After a very relaxing and inspirational bath, listening to Champagne & Sunshine, and a carefully chosen movie (a.k.a googling most recommended netflix movies of the month and picking the first one just because the poster seemed interesting), Minseok considers having dinner but rejects the idea after thinking ‘that’s a lot of work’ and instead goes in for a glass of orange juice and an apple, sliced and that’s all the cutting he is going to do for the night.

He takes his lackluster dinner in one hand… and does a double take when he passes by the dining room’s entrance. The lights are still on and both his makeup box and the bag of gifted clothes sit on top of the shiny table. Minseok doesn’t think he is too tired to be able to give a good look to some of the clothes. Jennie told him that if anything was the wrong size he could hit her up and get a different size in less than a day. 

Maybe he can even message a couple of photos to Jongdae and tell him he is sorry for not talking to him for the entire day but that he had a good excuse. Shopping would be Jongdae’s most likely guess and Minseok would proceed to explain he had to do a shoot and Jongdae would get a little bit mad about him hanging out with pretty people with eccentric taste and would promise to be real mean if Minseok is being ‘naughty’. Knowing your spouse so well is both endearing and always fun. 

Minseok grabs the bag and makes a run for the master bedroom, throwing the bag over the soft comforter and pressing the play button on the large screen across the room. The movie is fairly entertaining even if he is not quite sure what is going on at some parts, indie experimentation always has some interesting -even if not always good- results, but he gets sidetracked by the bag resting by his side. 

It’s a large blue kind of velvety bag, with two long straps and the brand’s name embroidered. No wonder she charges so high for her products, even the bags are made of quality material, and Minseok takes a nice photo of it to put it in his instagram like the good influencer he pretends to be (posting once a month and otherwise just dipping from social media). 

The contents are few, a nice shirt with a floral pattern on the sleeves, a pretty jacket with golden accents and… what seems to be a skirt. Minseok picks it up with very careful hands, as if it was so fragile that any wrong movement may pick all the seams apart. 

It’s black, relatively simple, with a plaid design in white and grey, it also has a cut on one side. When he holds it at eye level he confirms what he suspected, it’s a mini skirt, length just a few first longer than Minseok’s right hand. 

Minseok puts it down with a sigh, thinking that Jennie made a mistake, probably got confused with the bags and neither of these things are meant for him. Yet, when he tries on the shirt it fits perfectly, body looking nice and pretty under the fabric, and the jacket it’s spot on for him, just a little bit loose like he likes it. That must mean… nonsense. 

He puts the skirt back in the bag, making a mental note to text Jennie and tell her he is not a bad friend nor an ungrateful person but that he would like something other than a skirt. Maybe another shirt or a pair of those baggy jeans with crazy patterns on the belt she popularized a few months ago. 

As soon as he hits the bed, putting the new clothes in the hamper so he can wash them and get them ready to wear, he gets a text and the incoming call that follows tells him that someone is a little bit anxious. 

“Minseok, I was worried, you haven’t texted me in the entire day, are you ok?” his face swims into view right as Minseok answers, he still has his work shirt on and a worried look on his face. He is adorable.

“Hi, Dae, I miss you too,” Minseok responds, propping his head on his open palm, staring at him with half closed eyes. 

“Oh you are sleepy already…” Jongdae takes a look out of frame, Minseok catches a glimpse of the inside of his room, clean and white, boring like he likes hotel rooms to be. The clock shows up a second later as he turns to close the door dramatically hard. Poor baby, calling his husband in the middle of his walk back into the hotel. Cute. “It’s only 1am, what’s gotten into you?” He sets the phone in the night stand and walks up to a mirror above a vanity, loosening his tie and opening the first few buttons of his shirt. Minseok bites his lower lip, swallowing how the moan that would expose how needy he gets when Jongdae is taking off his work suit. “Having fun without me? You know I don’t like that” Jongdae says, side glancing at the phone. Minseok shakes his head adamantly. 

“No, no, no, silly!” he replies, giggling, “the shoot got rescheduled for today because the photographer is both a nightmare and a very good artist.”

“Is it any of the photographers I know?”

“Not really, he is kind of new into the scene but seems he is very talented so he made it up pretty quickly.”

“Ah, so you like him. Is he handsome?” 

“Dae…” Minseok whines, letting his head fall against the pillows “He is like… six years younger than me.”

“Well, I am two years younger than you and that never stopped you, I suppose that wouldn’t stop you with anyone else.” 

He exits the frame, talking off camera purposely, wanting to bait Minseok with the idea that he is going to show up naked next, when the farthest they have managed to go on camera is Jongdae teasing his husband non-stop and leaving him hot and bothered before saying goodbye and telling him to not orgasm until he comes home. It’s hell, so Minseok just distracts himself taking a look around his room, looking at the lamp in the bedside table and at the curtains in the large window moving slowly in the nighttime breeze.

“So, you like him?”

Minseok shrugs, “Jongin is definitely more handsome.”

Jongdae’s features sharpen, “The model, right? No brains, only beauty.”

“Don’t be mean, Nini has a college degree too.”

“Nini…” he snickers, clicking his tongue, Minseok is excited already, “So you are  _ that  _ close.”

“Of course we are, silly! I am his makeup artist since he debuted in the industry” Minseok bites his lip, questions if he should press it further… and then he presses it. “One time he gifted me one of his hoodies.” Jongdae quips an eyebrow, eyes looking progressively more stern. Minseok takes it as a queue to continue. “It was super cold and I forgot to bring a jacket, so he gave me his spare hoodie. It smelled so good, I think he uses the perfume from Taemin’s brand, that lovely rose water perfume, oh, so good!”

“Make sure you have no work scheduled for the weekend,” Jongdae starts, voice hard even if his expression remains entirely neutral, “because once I get home, I will make sure you are tied to the bed day and night.”

Minseok smiles, excitedly, “Can’t wait, goodnight dear!”

And to stir the pot further, he hangs up without expecting an answer. A master plan that will surely backfire simultaneously in the most pleasant and unpleasant of ways. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

“Minseok, I thought you were far more open minded.”

Those are the opening words of Jennie’s long monologue about the history of fashion and how a man like Minseok, proud to be who he is, of wearing heavy eyeshadow and bold colored clothes, should experiment beyond what the norm expresses. 

“Besides, I have seen your thighs in gym shorts,” she throws him a wink, hands browsing the hampers full of tidily hanged clothes, “I think they would look lovely in this” she says, prying one particularly skimpy piece. 

“Oh, yes, of course, the lace and silk would look great to walk in the dead of winter”

“Silly Minseok, somethings are meant to be worn at a high end bar, a strip club or… well” she leans forward a bit, as if she was about to whisper a secret, “your home. No one said you should wear it outside” Jennie smiles softly, but remains entirely unapologetic “There are certain things one wears to… heighten the spikes of pleasure.”

Minseok quips an eyebrow, staring at the fabric between Jennie’s elegantly manicured hands “Do you have such pieces of clothing for yourself?”

“Of course,” she answers, always brash when it comes to who she is and what she wants. “Do you know this fashion photographer, Sooya?”

“Dior’s favourite photographer? That Sooya?”

Jennie nods, “Her name is Jisoo and she loves me in a lace bralette” her overly confident persona fades for a second, something much more mild, kindly tamed attitude slipping through the cracks in the face of an old friend, “Come on, just try it once. If you don’t like either skirt I’ll give you some jeans. But give it a chance, I think it may be just the thing for you.”

Minseok stares at the skirt, red and black, lace and silk, an objectively pretty piece of clothing. He takes it from Jennie’s hands and exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Fine, but they better be my size.”

“They are,” Jennie assures and calls one of the many employees of her store to wrap it in golden gift wrap paper. 

When Minseok gets home the gift mocks him in the bag for a few hours, laughing at him every time Minseok walks by it, sitting idly in a corner of the sofa. He ignores it for a while, thinks he will come up with an excuse telling Jennie that they shrunk in the washing machine or that he lost them on a trip, after all he and Jongdae are going to Bahamas in the summer, he may as well drop them in the hotel’s wardrobe and run. 

Minseok stops mid coffee making to stare at the wall across the room and wonder ‘what if Jongdae likes skirts?’ 

The question is fleeting but it makes him walk to the sofa and pick up the abandoned back, peeking inside with a raised eyebrow. He is judging the clothes even though they have no guilt in his hesitation. 

“They are just clothes, Minseok, just clothes,” he says to himself, climbing the stairs to the master bedroom, opening the bag to retrieve the two skirts. The red and black is a little bit longer than the plain black one, so he picks that one first, taking off his pants and putting on the piece of clothing before making it to the walk-in closet. 

The mirror can be tricky, it can be ruthless or kind, so Minseok does a double, a triple take once he makes contact with his reflection. His thighs do look lovely under that fabric, the waistband holds his body so kindly, barely digging in the flesh, and it’s so short… 

Minseok stares at the image for a second, then shakes his head and takes the skirt off.. only to try the other one. And this one is even shorter, a little bit looser but still so good with his body, doing wonders to make him look strange in a way that is pleasing or at least not too disruptive to feel bad. 

He returns to the bedroom and picks his phone, opens the camera app and stares at the mirror, inhales, exhales, leaves the fear behind and fully embraces that he actually looks scrumptious in this skirt. 

Damn Jennie for always knowing what works in fashion. 

The photos are frankly good, it’s almost as if he had spent more than a decade working with models and photographers and neurotic fashion designers. 

Minseok closes the camera and leans back against the wall by the mirror, looking to text Jennie with a passive aggressive message of ‘thank you for ruining my existence’. Yet he doesn’t text Jennie, index finger lingering above the last opened chat, Jongdae’s chat.

He checks the time, he must still be on that damned conference with the boring chinese business men. Minseok bites his lip, wonders just how mad, horny and possessive Jongdae would get if he saw him wearing those skirts…

Minseok looks into the mirror and takes one, two, maybe three pictures, in one of them his underwear is showing, just a little bit. He opens the abandoned conversation, searches for the photos and hesitates for a second before hitting send. The double blue ticks tell him they have been seen. Good, he is going to ignore him for the rest of the day just to see the delightfully pissed reaction he will get from his beloved husband. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Minseok comes home from his sister’s house late at night, half drunk on very expensive wine from the winery his brother in law bought just last month, and climbs the stairs of his delightfully large home and jumps to the bed with a contented smile. His phone starts to ring just then. It had been ringing for hours before he left the house and then he got dozens of texts that he refused to acknowledge. 

“Good night, Dae,” he says. 

“Don’t you fucking dare call me Dae,” Jongdae’s voice is two octaves lower than usual, raspy and hoarse, like he had been screaming. Minseok feels chills down his back.

“Did you see what I sent you?” Minseok asks, playing the innocent fool. 

“I hate you so fucking much for that” Jongdae is groaning, Minseok feels himself grow hotter by the second “I was in the middle of a fucking conference trying so damn hard to not think of you and your fucking skirt” there is a noise on the other side of the phone, a clicking of a door, then a soft thud and a groan. Minseok is almost certain of two things: Jongdae is inside his hotel room, closing the door with the key and all, and he is probably hornier than ever “Do you know how hard it was? Hmm? How hard it was to not think of fucking you in that, of ripping that right of your body and gag you with it?”

Minseok moans, his free hand slithering under his shirt, pinching his nipples like he knows Jongdae would, mean and rough. 

“Are you touching yourself?” Jongdae asks and tsks his tongue when he hears a faint hmm coming from Minseok’s mouth “You filthy little whore.”

“You are doing it too,” Minseok mutters, pouting then biting his lip because he hears Jongdae moan, loud and pronounced. It’s driving him insane. “Tell me, Dae, tell me what would you do to me in that skirt?”

“Would?” Jongdae snickers, “I will destroy you and I will choke you with my fucking dick like the whore you are.”

Minseok keens loudly, tugging his dick to the tune of the dirty talk that he loves so fucking badly, screams when he reaches his high point, hearing Jongdae tell him repeatedly to cum for him. Minseok is always good, albeit sometimes bratty, so he does cum and sighs contentedly when he hears Jongdae moan his name. 

“Did you cum?” he asks, softly. 

There is a long exhalation, then a pause, then Jongdae’s usual tender voice whispers “Yes, it was great.” He laughs then, a pretty thing that makes Minseok smile “I love you so much, you are going to be the death of me.”

Minseok smiles, leans back on the pillows that rest against the headboard, “Hopefully we can die together, fuck me until I stop breathing.”

“In forty years, maybe,” he says, “Was the skirt a threat, hmm?”

Minseok giggles, “No, it was just an incentive for you to come back sooner...”

“I’ll be there in two days,” Jongdae admonishes, like he was talking to a whiny kid and not to his husband. “In the meantime, know that I keep my promises”

“I know that too, and I’m counting on it,” Minseok stands up, just a little bit dizzy, walking towards the clothes he left behind in the chair opposite to the bed. “I’ll buy another skirt, you should have told me you liked them.”

“Didn’t want to bother you with a silly little thing like that, you are already perfect for my tastes,” Jongdae is always so strangely romantic and giddy after sex, it’s delightfully sweet.

“Well, they sure are little,” Minseok says, smiling with the resulting laugh that comes from the other side. 

“Go to sleep, whore” he says, still laughing. 

Minseok gasps dramatically, “But I’m a pretty little whore, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are, the prettiest.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Minseok arrives at home very late. The photoshoot that should have lasted for two hours extended to over four and of course his rate went up with each extra hour. He was a little bummed out by this because he had agreed to have a video call with Jongdae before going to bed, but with knowing that he wasn’t going to be at home at a reasonable time, texted him to cancel it. 

Jongdae was bummed, something Minseok expected, but didn’t make any more fuss about it. No jealous or possessive remarks, no jokes, no promises, no thing. Minseok didn’t expect that, considering how much they bicker when things like this happen. 

Regardless, Minseok didn’t put too much thought into it, looking forward to a quiet night at home before Jongdae came back. Just one more day until they met again. 

B ut there is something… strange about the house. A certain static that was absent when he left, a soundless storm brewing inside a tea cup, the crackle of the thunder to come. When he walks into the living room he stares at the coffee table with narrowed eyes because he is pretty sure he hadn’t bought new flowers for the glass vase that rests in the middle of it, a pretty arrangement of mauve carnations, corianders, coral roses and camellias. 

Minseok briefly wonders if he should look up the meaning of flowers, considering that in the studio upstairs there is a pretty interesting volume about that topic that Jongdae bought a couple of years ago on a whim. He ditches the idea because a glass of merlot sounds much more interesting right now than reading about pretty flowers. 

The kitchen’s light is turned on, bright and fluorescent light welcoming him. Minseok feels there is something weird about this, but doesn’t pay much attention, headed for the sink to wash his hands and pick out a bottle of wine from the cabinet above it. 

He drinks two glasses because he is feeling a little bit naughty, like usual when he misses his husband, and walks upstairs humming a little song. Minseok turns on the bedroom light and feels his phone buzz in the backpocket of his jeans. It buzzes three times and his guess that there must be three texts waiting for him is confirmed as soon as he checks the notifications. 

Dae:   
Minseokkie  
put on a skirt  
nothing under it ;)

Minseok sighs, is Jongdae still awake? And not only that, does he still want to have a video call, and a pretty saucy one at that? It’s nearly 1am, Minseok sighs and thinks he should just reply ‘fuck you’ and abide to the consequences that may come with it. But he does feel a bit needy, especially considering how Jongdae had reacted to his prior skirt stunt, so riled up that Minseok had dreamed of that. 

So Minseok heads to the walk-in closet, picks the skirt from the third drawer to the right, putting it on not before shimming out of his underwear, kicking it away without much care. He took his phone with him so he may as well try to get some pictures to bother Jongdae with. 

But when he leans to pick the phone from the vanity, the light turns off and a pair of hands grab him, one wrapped around his neck and the other on his lower belly, pushing him back until his ass makes contact with another body. He screams and the hand around his neck covers his mouth. 

“Shh,” a pair of lips press to the side of his neck, Minseok gasps. 

"Dae?” Minseok asks when the hand falls. 

“Of course,” he answers, biting the exposed skin just a bit, “were you expecting anyone else?”

“Maybe I was” Minseok bites back a moan, following Jongdae’s steps when he drags him back, the light turns back on, and the hand on his stomach is as familiar as the eyes he gets to see in the mirror across from them. Jongdae is dressed in his suit sans the jacket, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, tie still secure around his neck, and his eyes are fiery and wanting and demanding. Minseok is melting. 

“Nonsense,” Jongdae says, tugging him back against his body, rolling his hips and pressing his erection against Minseok’s ass, “who else could give you what I can?” 

Minseok smiles, presses his ass back a little bit more, wanting to feel him better, closer. 

“See? You are needy and desperate already,” he slides his hand down Minseok’s front, brushing his groin with his fingertips, then pressing a mean palm on it. He spins Minseok around, pushing his back against the wall, kissing him until he is dizzy with the taste of the man he adores, bodies pressed together until they are both hard and panting. 

“Go on, to the bedroom” Jongdae commands, patting Minseok’s ass twice. Once they are back in the room, Minseok heads to the bed, but stops when he hears Jongdae’s voice “No, no,” Jongdae says, loosening his tie “You don’t deserve the bed.”

He takes a seat on the sofa across the bed, legs spread, dick fighting the restraint of his grey tailored pants. When he is comfortable enough, he beckons him closer with two fingers. 

“On your knees,” Jongdae commands when Minseok is in front of him. He does as he is told, hands folded over his groin. Jongdae tilts his head, a mean smile on his lips. “Why do you cover yourself? Are you shy now? After everything you’ve done… don’t pretend you have shame.”

Jongdae shakes off his shoes, throwing them away near the bed, then grabs Minseok’s arms, moving his hands in the process and uncovering his erection. With the tip of his feet he lifts Minseok’s skirt just enough to see underneath and laughs, clothed feet brushing the sensitive skin and making Minseok whine so hard that there are tears in his eyes. 

“So needy already? And I have barely done anything” he says and lets go of Minseok’s arms. He undoes his trousers and pulls out his dick, tip an angry red, leaking precum. “Open wide,” he says and when Minseok does he puts his cock in, sinking so hard and so quickly that Minseok gags. “Such a good slut,” he whispers, hand threading through Minseok’s hair with something akin to softness “now be good for me and make me cum, Seokkie. If you do, I will make you cum too, ok?”

And through the tears pooling in Minseok’s eyes, he nods, tongue coming to lap at Jongdae’s tip when he pulls out. He is good, he is always good, even when is being bratty, but now there is no space for being bratty. Minseok is too damn turned on to fight back, to pretend he doesn’t want Jongdae to facefuck him until he is drooling, to pretend he doesn’t spread his legs a little bit more just to put away the fabric of the skirt because if it keeps brushing his dick he may cum untouched. 

So he does as he is told and opens wide and sucks hard, does his best to brush the underside, the sensitive veins and the juicy tip, moans high and loud whenever Jongdae’s hand tugs his hair sharply. By the time Jongdae announces he is close, Minseok’s face is covered in tears and drool, messy and probably gross, but Jongdae comes with the sound of his name in his mouth and fills Minseok’s throat with salty liquid. He swallows because he is good like that and lets the softening cock move away from his mouth.

His jaw hurts a bit but he is still hard and needing to come so he complies when Jongdae grabs him, pulls him until he is straddling his lap and those pretty kittenish lips fuse with his own mouth, tongue lapping the inside of his mouth, hand grabbing his dick and tugging it a couple dozen times until he comes, white spurts landing on Jongdae’s pristine shirt.

Minseok falls limp on his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, so overflowed with emotions that he barely notices when Jongdae picks him up and takes him to the bed, climbing over him and covering Minseok’s face with tiny little kisses. 

“You are so good, Minseokkie,” Jongdae whispers, so sweet, so nice, so kind, hands caressing his sides. When Minseok stops sobbing, Jongdae moves away, coming back with baby wipes and tissues, cleaning Minseok’s face as he hums a sweet little song that they listened to together for the first time when they were away on a holiday. 

“Come on, help me out here,” Jongdae pulls Minseok’s body upwards, forcing him to sit and Minseok cooperates when Jongdae asks him to put on his pajamas. He leaves, disappears for a minute or two or ten, and comes back with his own pajamas on and two glasses of clear water. 

“That’s it,” he says, kissing Minseok’s face with tiny little butterfly kisses, here and gone in a minute. They get under the sheets and soon Minseok is giggling, hiding his face in Jongdae’s chest, kneading his body as if he were a cat. Jongdae giggles too, tracing circles on Minseok’s back. 

“You didn’t lie when you say you were going to make me cry”

Jongdae scoffs, “told you, I always keep my promises.”

“You promised to love me forever,” Minseok says, pressing closer to Jongdae, as physically near to his heart as he can “will you be keeping that promise too?”

“Of course,” he responds, hand threading through his hair. Minseok raises his head in time to see that delightful curled up smile, eyes impossibly soft, hair falling without much order over his forehead. “That’s the promise that matters the most to me. Now sleep, tomorrow I want you to ride me wearing that pretty little skirt of yours” and with that pretty soft expression and his soft little voice, he slaps Minseok’s ass, laughing uproariously at his offended expression before turning off the night table lamp. 


End file.
